Ghosts and Spooks
by Witch4
Summary: A compilation of my Losers/Covert Affairs stories also found in the Losers and Covert Affairs archives, respectively . Finally updated with an exclusive, not in any other story, chapter!
1. August

Spooks and Ghosts

Vignette #1 - August

Summary: Jensen wonders about the Losers' techs before him.

Author's Note: I don't own any of the characters. The plot is from my own weird mind. This story is basically a collection of the Losers/Covert Affairs cross-over stories that I'm writing (found in the Losers and Covert Affairs archives, respectively). The vignettes are little stand alones and the chapters are part of a broader story I'm trying. Please enjoy!

"What were they like?" Jensen asked one humid August morning at the breakfast "table" the Losers were gathered around in their shitty little safehouse in Middle-of-Nowhere America.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but who?" Clay asked his tech as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a headache forming at way-too-early in the morning before taking a sip of his coffee.

"The guys before me. The other techs that you've had. Who were they? What were they like?"

Clay sighed, nodded to Cougar in thanks as the sniper silently passed him two aspirin, gulped them down with more coffee, and turned back to his team's designated little brother. "They were techs. They weren't good at ducking, or following orders, or were too scared of Roque to be good in the field."

"Except for Auggie. Remember him? Used to have staring matches with Roque. First person I ever met, other than you Clay, who wasn't afraid of him," Pooch said before going back to his soggy cereal. They really needed to get better on-the-run breakfast foods.

Cougar smiled while Clay chuckled, the memory of their last decent field tech before Jensen making the former colonel's headache seem to lessen. Jensen and Aisha looked to their three comrades, silently pleading for them to give more explanation regarding this former Loser. That is, until Jensen blurted out: "What happened to him?"

"He got head-hunted by the Company." Clay took another long sip of his coffee.

"So that's it? He's a spook now?"

"Not exactly," Pooch answered, the faces of the three oldest Losers growing sad.

"What does he do then?" Aisha asked as she swiped a stale piece of toast from her boyfriend/lover/sparring partner, earning a glare as he greedily protected the rest of his breakfast.

Clay sighed again, took another sip of coffee, than told them about the young officer that had come to his team eight years prior.

"Yes, he was a spook. Was being the operative word, Jensen," the blonde closed his mouth to let his CO continue. "About 18 months ago, he did a rotation with another unit in Tikrit. They came across what they thought was a dead dog, it blew up, and now Auggie's a desk jockey."

"Why-?" Aisha almost didn't want to know why this young soldier the others seemed so fond of now rode a desk.

Pooch picked up the ending of the story, "Auggie lost his sight. The way he puts it, he saw the dead dog, it blew up, and he became a Ray Charles."

The kitchen grew quiet as everyone thought about those they knew that had not been so lucky.

Meanwhile, in Langley, Virginia, a young man with a charming smile and unseeing eyes that seemed to sparkle when he turned his decidedly enchanting (or infuriating) charms on listened to the news with the rest of the Domestic Protection Division as reports regarding a failed heist involving military-trained suspects who were still at large. Smiling, he took a sip of the coffee his newest favorite recruit had just handed him and thought to himself "Good job, Losers. I hope you got your intel."


	2. Good Hunting

Spooks and Ghosts

Chapter 1 - Good Hunting

Summary: Annie gets a new assignment: Hunt down Max. Takes place in season 1.

"Who's Max?" Annie Walker asked as she walked into the DPD's Tech Ops.

"Which Max are we talking about: Max in tech, Max in accounting, Max in-"

"Max, the operative that apparently went off the rails last year after the Bolivia tragedy and who Joan and Arthur have both tasked me with finding."

"Oh, that Max! Yeah, that Max is a psychopath that ruined the lives, deaths, and names of some very good men."

"Auggie."

"Yes?"

"Who's Max."

Auggie Anderson, head of the Domestic Protection Division's tech ops, closed his eyes and sighed before turning to face (he hoped) his friend and opened his eyes again, focusing his blind stare on the junior operative.

"Max is an agency codename for the most sadistic, sociopathic operatives the CIA has ever seen. You've heard of the agents called Lynch?" Annie gave a quiet "Yes."

"Well, Max is worse. And this particular Max decided that he wanted to start World War 3 by destroying entire islands. Remember what happened at the Port of Los Angeles last year? When that plane blew up in the yard? Well, Max was, at least in part, responsible for what happened."

"In part?"

"Yeah. Remember the Spec Ops team that was blamed for the Bolivia mission last year?"

"They died along with the helicopter crew and 25 children."

"Yeah, well, they didn't die. They went after Max because he was responsible and he burned them. And then they went off the grid. I occasionally pick up chatter concerning them, mostly the places they rob or destroy, but from what I can tell, they're still looking for him."

"How are they still alive?"

"They're the Losers and they are very hard to kill."

"Wait, the Losers? Isn't that the team you were with when the Agency recruited you?"

"Yep. And if you want to find Max, it might be best if you contacted them." Auggie handed her a card with a number on it. "That's a disposable number. Call it and tell them that Auggie says they owe me a bottle of Patrón and a night with Candy; they'll know you're good." Auggie turned back to his computer, put his headphones on, and resumed his previous activity.

"Oh, and Annie? Good hunting."

Annie smiled at his back before turning and leaving Tech Ops. She made a detour to her desk, picking up her encrypted phone, before heading out of the DPD, her thoughts on how she would broach the subject of Max with her friend's former team. She turned towards a pair of double glass doors that led to the balcony and fountain she always seemed to find herself at when she needed to think. This time, though, she would be hiding out and making a somewhat illicit call to a group of men that the world believed dead.

Carefully ensconcing herself in a corner of the balcony that hid her from view, she dialed the number that Auggie had given her. The other end rang twice before a man answered.

"H'lo?"

"Hi, I'm assuming this is one of the Losers. Please don't hang up. Auggie gave me this number and he says that you guys owe him a bottle of Patrón and a night with Candy."

The man on the other end of the call hmm'd before answering. "This is Colonel Clay. Who are you, what do you want, and how do you know Auggie?"

Annie smiled. Auggie had been right about his former CO being just a little bit gruff when talking to new people. "My name is Annie, and I've been tasked with finding Max. Auggie thought you'd appreciate the heads-up."

They talked for a few more minutes about what might be going on before agreeing to help each other, surreptitiously of course, find and kill/prosecute (it didn't matter which) the man known only as Max.

* * *

><p>So, that's it. Please review! It feeds a writer's soul.<p> 


	3. The Meeting

Spooks and Ghosts

Chapter 2 – The Meeting

"So, who is this chick?"

"I thought you were the 'Greatest Fucking Hacker of the Whole Ginormous World'?" Aisha asked the blonde man walking behind her.

Jensen blushed a bit before answering. "Yeah, but notice how I didn't say 'Biggest Fucking Idiot.' See, while I _could_ hack into the Agency's personnel files, I don't because I'm not crazy!"

Aisha raised her pierced eyebrow. "And yet, you're the one wearing the bright red 'Ninja Hunter' shirt."

Clay coughed to hide his amusement before answering, "She's an Agency operative and a friend of Auggie's. If he can vouch for her, then she's good."

"But how do we know she's not 'volatile'?" Jensen used air quotes around the word. They heard Cougar give a quiet chuckle over the comms.

"Because Candy was the only girl Clay's dated who hasn't tried to kill him," Pooch answered over the comms.

"You actually dated a non-psychopathic girl while in the Army? That's fucking amazing!" Jensen was now gesticulating wildly for emphasis.

"Yeah, well, let's just hope that Auggie was right and that this girl can help us."

Ten minutes later, the trio was seated on two benches near the Mall, the Washington Monument casting a looming shadow.

"I don't like this, being all out in the open, it's dangerous," Aisha started as they pretended to enjoy the nice Washington day.

"We agreed it would be the best place for a meeting. It's public, and the Agency won't try to kill us with so many _foreign_ civilians in the vicinity. Too much paperwork."

"That, and it's illegal for the Agency to work on American soil," Jensen added.

"That, too," Clay agreed before Cougar announced that a blonde woman was approaching them. "Looks like it's show time, people."

"You look good for the walking dead," the woman, Annie Walker, said as she got comfortable on the adjacent bench and got out a lunch.

"And you look too pretty to supposedly work for the Smithsonian," Clay quipped back. Aisha sent a glare to the tech 50 feet across the path from them while simultaneously squeezing her boyfriend/lover/sparring partner's hand painfully.

From his vantage point, Cougar saw Annie's eyes flash a look of concern over them finding out her cover for a moment before calming.

Pooch commented over the comms, "I thought Jensen said he wasn't crazy enough to hack into the CIA's personnel files." Clay coughed to let their driver know that he'd fill them in later.

Annie passed an envelope beneath the benches to Clay while pretending to have noticed her shoe was untied (a rather unfortunate incident involving running through the streets of Madrid in her trademark Louboutins had caused her to sprain her ankle and forced her to wear what some would consider sensible shoes until the injury healed). Taking the manila envelope that was poking into his calf, Clay handed it to Aisha who slid it into the large purse that she had been persuaded by Jensen to bring for the day's meeting.

"Anything we should know?" Annie asked the couple seated behind her.

"Tell her Max is a psychotic son of a bitch who is also sociopathic and needs to be put down like Wile E. Coyote when he's trying to capture Roadrunner," Jensen said.

"He's a dangerous man that your bosses should never have allowed to run free, Miss Walker," Clay told the woman behind him.

Annie gave notice that she understood before collecting her things and standing, lunch garbage firmly in her hand.

"Oh, Annie, please tell Auggie that he was always to good for Candy and that the Patrón will be on the end of his coffee table closest to the kitchen with a glass on the right side of the bottle. Thanks for the info," Clay told her before bringing his left arm around Aisha's shoulder, saving his hand and fingers from being crushed by her strong grip. A few minutes later, Cougar informed them that the CIA operative had left the area and gone down a subway entrance.

"Okay, Losers, let's wrap this up. Jensen, move your ass."

"We get what we needed?"

"Let's hope so."

* * *

><p>I have a friend who does own a bright red "Ninja Hunter" shirt.<p> 


	4. Secret Friends

Vignette #2 - Secret Friends

A/N: This plot was suggested by boojum. Also, I've never been to Lincoln, Nebraska, so I apologize to anyone from there if I've insulted the city at all. Anyway, enjoy!

Jensen was bored. No, actually, that wasn't quite true. Jensen was, for all intents and purposes, ready to cause severe mayhem to the national infrastructure of some of the not-so-nice countries that the Losers had been on the gun barrel end of recently.

The Losers and Aisha (she was always going to be the "and" in the team dynamics according to Jensen's mind) were currently holed up in Lincoln, Nebraska, which was actually a bit better than he'd thought it would be. One of Aisha's contacts had set up a meeting that Clay, Cougar, Pooch "and" Aisha were at. Since the hole-in-the-wall bar the meet was at had no security cameras (it didn't even have an ATM!) and the closest camera was three blocks away at the stoplight, Jensen really didn't have anything to do.

This all wound back to the fact that Jake Jensen was bored.

"There's a message for you, Master" his latest computer (Imogene) called out. On another boring day, Jensen had programmed it to speak like a British woman whenever something happened in relation to his computer.

Jensen squeeled, thinking that maybe it was a message from his sister Liz and niece Kayley. He hadn't heard from them in a while. Clicking on the mail icon that popped up in the lower right hand corner of his screen, Jensen discovered that it was not from his sister and niece as he had hoped. Instead, it was his chat room friend MingusWorshipper81.

The others didn't know that he had been in contact with this mysterious former soldier since he'd joined the Losers. In fact, MingusWorshipper81 was the government contact that had started giving the Losers highly classified information after the whole Port of Los Angeles/vibrating Easter egg/Roque turning traitor incident.

Jensen opened the new message from his friend and quickly read its contents:

_Max has been spotted in Tierra del Fuego. He may be in the company of Pablo Miguel de Jesus. The PTB believe that they may be trying to start another Falklands War. Be prepared. Stay safe._

Jensen re-read the Email three more times before he started hacking his way into the FBI's South American Most Wanted list. Right there at number 9 was Pablo Miguel de Jesus, arms dealer and drug runner who had had suspected ties to Fadhil two years earlier when the Losers had been tasked with killing him. Jensen sent a quick note back to MingusWorshipper81:

_Understood. I'll see what we can do with the info. Thanks and stay safe._

Jensen had just finished checking Army CID's information (also hacked) when he heard the chattering that signaled his friends' return. Turning to greet them, he saw the grim look that had once again made itself comfy on his CO's face.

"Pack up, we're leaving for Chile."

"Why?"

"Max might be trying to start the second Falklands War."

Jensen didn't say anything to Pooch's announcement; he just nodded and started shutting down Imogene and packing up the various bits of tech that were scattered with a 1 metre radius of him. He made a mental note to hack into some servers and find out why MingusWorshipper81 had given him the same intel as that of Aisha's contact. Usually the information he got from his online friend contained more than what they already knew.

Frowning, Jensen picked up his gear and started for his notebook PC; they were going to need transport to get to Tierra del Fuego and he was going to need the efficiency (and continuous roaming IP) that the computer he had dubbed "Kelly" gave him.

Twelve hundred-plus miles away, Auggie Anderson, former Loser and current head of tech ops for the Domestic Protection Division of the CIA, sat in his apartment at his personal computer as he read Jensen's reply. He chuckled when "Tijuana Giftshop" started playing. It looked like his musical influence was starting to run off on his replacement. He knew that he was going to have to stop giving the Losers intel before someone found out and he was tried for treason, but he wanted them to find Max, get revenge/justice (from Jensen's Emails he knew that the two had become practically interchangable), and get their lives back.

They didn't know it, but Auggie had been carefully making sure that Jensen's sister & niece, Pooch's wife & son, Cougar's parents & siblings, and Clay's brother were kept out of the backlash and limelight as well as being as far from possible from any sort of investigation that had been started once news of Max's defection to himself and whoever wanted to help him came to light.

Auggie sighed as the song ended and clicked the remote for his stereo, listening as the sounds of Charles Mingus drifted from the speakers. He hoped his friends would come out on top in the end.


	5. Losing Friends

Vignette #3 - Losing Friends

A/N: This is a prequel of sorts.

Summary: Auggie finds out about Bolivia.

"What the hell happened?" the female voice practically screeched (though he would never say it to the face of the voice's owner) in his ear. Auggie Anderson had been rudely awoken at 5:23 in the morning at his parents' house in Glendale, Illinois by his former Special Forces team's one and only female member.

Master Sergeant Adelaide "Doll" Brun was a force to be reckoned with. At 5 feet 9 inches and a muscular 145 lbs, she was the fiercest female soldier Auggie had ever met. She had been a part of the Losers, unofficially of course, for three missions in South America where her abilities as a native Spanish Speaker as well as a trained (female) CIA operative had proven useful.

However, being rudely awoken by her at dark-o'clock was something he had not missed about the feisty brunette.

"What are you talking about, Doll?"

"Turn on the news. They're saying that they killed 25 kids in Bolivia."

Auggie didn't have to ask who the "they" she was talking about were. He just sighed and told her that she would need to wait a minute or two while he carefully walked out of his childhood room, down the hall, and carefully maneuvered down the stairs and to the right until he walked into the couch in his parents' living room. Following the back and side of the couch until he was properly situated in front, he dropped gracelessly onto the leather sofa, felt around for the remote, and turned the TV on, the volume kept low enough so that it didn't wake up his parents or second oldest brother who was also staying with them.

"-And if you're just joining us, our top story this morning is the tragic deaths of 25 Bolivian children and 9 US soldiers in the jungle outside of Riberalta. The Department of Defense and the Secretary of the Army are saying that the soldiers were not authorized to be in Bolivia and that their reason for being in the country is, at this time, unknown. The soldiers killed have not yet been officially identified, but they are believed to be Colonel Franklin Clay, Captains Matthew Partridge and William Roque, Lieutenant Jonathan Tully, Sergeant First Class Carlos Alvarez, Staff Sergeants Linwood Porteous and Gregory Atwater, and Corporals Jacob Jensen and Martin Chan…"

Hearing the names of his friends and former Losers caused Auggie to drop the phone in his hand. He didn't even realize that it wasn't in his hand until he heard Doll screaming at him through the receiver.

"Auggie! Auggie, are you still there? Damn it! Answer me!"

Auggie felt around for his cell phone and, picking it up, brought it back up to his ear.

"I'm on vacation, so this is the first I'm hearing about it. What are you getting from your end?"

"Dickerson and Wilcox have been in a conference call for the last 3 hours. No one seems to know anything. I'm wondering if you'd heard anything about this."

"No, but…Wait, I remember reading about a top level covert mission to Bolivia to take out Fadhil. But, that wouldn't be them. It was a simple laser paint mission. Really far below the Losers' usual jobs."

"Do you remember who ordered it?"

"There wasn't a real name attached to it. Only the cover name of Max."

"I don't believe that they're dead. You remember those missions we went on. There's no way that a simple helicopter crash could take out the boys."

"I'll do some digging on my end when I get back to Virginia. There has to be more to this then what's being said."

"I'll do the same. Good luck, Auggie. And pray for them."

"The same to you, Doll. Let's get together the next time you're stateside."

The two friends hung up and each began planning how they were going to get the intel necessary to prove that the unit that they had spilt their blood with was not at fault. By the time Auggie's parents and brother got up, he had a plan beginning to form. By breakfast, his family had heard about the boys that Auggie had served with and agreed with Auggie that there was no way the Losers could have been responsible.

Now to prove it.


	6. Pizza and Patron

Chapter 3 - Pizza and Patrón

Auggie sighed as he sat on his couch and felt for the bottle of Patrón that he had been promised. Just like Annie had said, the bottle and a glass sat at the end of his coffee table on the side closest to his kitchen. As he was bringing the Patrón and bottle to the front of the table, he felt a piece of card in front of him. Picking it up, he slowly ran his fingers over the raised indentations on the card's surface:

_Captain-_

_Thanks for the intel. Tell Annie (and the Campbells since there's no way that they don't know that you've called in outside help) that we'll send what we find. Enjoy the tequila, it's your favorite. And there's some pizza in the fridge._

_-Colonel Franklin Clay._

Auggie smiled as he re-read the card. Putting it down, he went back to pouring the tequila before standing and making his way to his kitchen and the pizza that awaited him. He'd have to remember to send a bottle of Mezcal with Annie the next time she went to meet the Losers.

* * *

><p>Okay, so that was just a short little interlude.<p> 


	7. Messages

Vignette #4 - Messages

A/N: This story came about from a conversation with my mom about how Auggie might find out that the Losers were still alive. Also, thank you to Abberz the Awesome for noticing that my Spanish was a bit off; hopefully it's properly fixed.

When Auggie Anderson got back to Langley Tuesday morning, he was in mourning. The news had been announcing since Thursday the devastating deaths of 34 people in the Bolivian jungle: 25 local children and 9 soldiers. Five of the soldiers were Losers. And those 5 Losers were having their names run through the mud.

It was widely known by many in the Agency that Auggie had, at the time of his recruitment, been the tech and comms man for this select team of Special Forces soldiers. No one wanted to say a bad word about them, in fear that Auggie might come upon them and possibly lash out (he might be blind, but he was still one of the best hand-to-hand fighters at the Agency).

By Friday evening, Auggie was ready to cause some destruction. It wasn't physically possible for his former team to have caused the deaths of children, _or_ fellow soldiers. Yes, they might have gotten into fights on a semi-regular basis with their military colleagues, but to cause the deaths of children was unthinkable. So it came as a surprise when Auggie arrived at his apartment at 8PM and turned on his home computer and found an Email waiting for him.

_From: PetuniaRocker47_

_To: MingusWorshipper81_

_Subject: Lazarus_

_Sorry I haven't been in contact in a while. We've been…well, I guess the proper word would be mourning. You heard about those kids in Bolivia? The government is hiding a question that people should be asking. What is that question, you ask? Well, it's this: Why were those 25 kids on that copter?_

_Look into it, if you can, and maybe send me updates on what's going on Stateside? We're going to be stuck out of the country for a while and any news you could give would be nice._

_Peace. Out._

_-JJ_

Auggie was awestruck. They were alive! His friends, his brothers, were alive! He wanted to jump for joy, but knew that that might not be a good idea. While he was comfortable in his apartment, he didn't want to accidentally fall over, trip, or injure or damage anything while celebrating.

He grinned, got up, and made his way to his fridge. There was a slice of cake his neighbor, Mrs. Leary, had given him the other day when he was in mourning. Instead of mending a broken heart, Auggie was going to eat it in celebration that the news, and US & Bolivian governments, had been wrong, as well as to remember the 25 kids and 4 crew members of the helicopter. He may have been relieved that his friends were still alive, but there were still 29 people who would never get to eat another piece of cake, and they deserved a proper remembrance. Auggie went to get his "Life and Death" bottle of Patrón (as his brothers had dubbed it) and poured himself a double shot of the tequila. Raising the glass in a salutation, he said aloud: "May we never forget. ¡Larga vida a todos!"

* * *

><p>The Spanish at the end is "Long live you all."<p>

Okay, so that was that. I may write more stories about the Emails between Jensen and Auggie.


	8. News, Part 1

Vignette #5 – News, Part 1

A/N: Finally, an update, right?

Why were those 25 kids on that copter? What were they doing on a military helicopter, during what was obviously an extraction following a (hopefully) successful covert mission? Auggie had been pondering this all weekend when he got back to Langley Monday morning. Booting up his computer and plugging in his ever-present headphones, he began going over the messages that had been left in the inbox at his workspace (he refused to call it a desk, it was too much like those group desks that he'd had in elementary school to be properly called an actual work desk).

Once his computer had finished its start-up sequence and brightly chirped in his ear that all systems were a go (he really needed to stop watching science fiction films with his brother Tony when he was in town), he brought up the Agency search function and decided to see (covertly) what his bosses knew about the crash and the mission that had preceded it. Three minutes of hacking later, Auggie found what he had been looking for: Max.

According to the CIA, Max did not officially exist. It was the codename for the most psychotic, sociopathic, antipathetic operatives the United States government had employed during each administration and predated the CIA by several years. In this case, the operative in question was actually named Max, had a deceased twin brother who had also been named Max, and both had been trained by their father, another "Max" spook. _Boy, this family sure has problems_, Auggie thought as he read the files that he had illicitly accessed. Unfortunately, there weren't any photos available concerning Max, which wouldn't normally be a problem for the blind hacker, but it would be a problem for the people he intended on sending the information to.

Copying the files to a ghost account that he had set up shortly after becoming a spy, Auggie quickly erased any trace that he had been there and closed all programs related to his search.

When Auggie got home that night, he accessed the ghost account, encrypted all of the information, and attached it to an Email to the Loser known as Jensen.

_From: MingusWorshipper81_

_To: PetuniaRocker47_

_Subject: Majorly Awesome Exposition_

_Attachments: __Majorly Awesome Exposition__, __Ninja Cats__, __Rocking Petunias__,__Disaster in Bolivia__, __Families Remember Dead__, __No Memorial for Black Ops Soldiers_

_I'm glad to hear you're okay. I was trolling through some old files when I came across this majorly awesome exposition. It's not much, but I thought you might like it. If I remember correctly, there are ninja cats in it. There are also some news articles you might want to peruse._

_-AA_

Hitting send, Auggie got up and walked to his kitchen to make himself some dinner. He hoped the information helped. He sighed; the Losers were in for some tough times.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the lack of updating; I've been dealing with the drama that is finding a medical externship.<p> 


	9. Bad Intel, Worse Situation

A/N: I thought I had lost this when my old computer died. This doesn't really fit in anywhere and is exclusively part of the cross-over. Enjoy!

Chapter 4 – Bad Intel, Worse Situation

How the hell had it happened? How had the entire mission gone FUBAR so quickly? Clay was currently wondering what kind of intelligence the Campbells (because he just knew that Joan and Arthur were somehow behind the high level of intelligence that they had been given) had sent.

"Jensen! Your contact give you anything yet?" he asked the blond tech who hadn't moved in the thirty minutes he'd been sitting in the shack they'd found.

"Nothing yet. But I am picking up some chatter from an NSA black page. Something about a dragon. Either that or some other hacker has started turning their intelligence into Harry Potter."

"Wait, you said dragon? Could it be Draco Nuñez?" Aisha asked the young man.

"Maybe? Half this intel is in Portuguese, the other half in Turkish. I can't tell up from down in any of this. It's like-"

"Give me," Aisha said as she grabbed "Consuela," Jensen's newest computer acquisition. The next five minutes, the only sound to be heard from the woman were whispered snippets of English, Portuguese, and Turkish.

` "It was the Greeks. They didn't give everything they had to your friends. Nuñez stole the original bomb plans from Libya, who stole them from Russia, who stole them from America. Nuñez then sold the plans to Iran, whose operatives were most likely the people shooting at us." She gave Consuela back to Jensen before standing and pacing.

"Wonderful. The people who invented democracy are the same people who like getting other people killed." Clay joined in the pacing.

"And why do their tzatziki and gyros have to be so good?" Jensen mock-wailed as he went back to searching for anything useful.

Clay stopped his pacing. "That's it. Jensen, send a message to Auggie. Give him everything you got from that site, then tell him that we'll need contact info on a Greek-Macedonian named Giorgos Pandev. And work with Pooch to get us transport to Macedonia."

"The country or the region?"

"Whichever gets us closest to Pandev!"

* * *

><p>So, that's exciting, huh? I updated it! Yay! Pretty good for a 1 in the morning find with grammar fixes.<p> 


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